EZRA
The room was quiet except for the steady ticking of the clock on the wall. I had been too dazed to realize it before, but now, as my senses returned, I noticed the warmth of Malachai's hand hovering near my face. I blinked, confused, until I felt the lightest brush of his fingers against the curve of my ear. My breath hitched.
"What are you doing?" My voice almost a whisper.not even sure if he heard it but I hadn't meant for it to sound so soft, so uncertain.
He didn't answer. His gaze lingered, fixated on my ear, the faintest crease between his brows. That was when I felt it…heat. My ears were burning. Malakai tilted his head slightly, almost as if he was curious, intrigued by something I couldn't see. He reached again, hesitant, but before he could make contact, I moved back just slightly, startled by my own reaction.
"You're not supposed to talk to me, are you?" I asked, my voice sharper this time, though I didn't know why. Maybe it was a reminder to myself. A line I wasn't supposed to cross.
Malachai froze. His fingers curled into a fist at his side, his lips parting as if he wanted to speak…but he didn't. Instead, he took a slow step back, bowing his head just enough to acknowledge the unspoken rule between us.
And then he was gone.
It was ridiculous. Stupid, even.
But I couldn't get him out of my head.
I should've been thinking about other things—like my aching ribs, the dull throbbing in my skull, the way my body still trembled from Lucius's presence—but none of that mattered. Not now. Now, my mind was filled with the way Malachai had looked at me, the way he had reached for me, so gentle, so unlike anything I had ever known.
No one had ever looked at me like that.
Like I was fragile. Like I was human.
Lucius's hands were cold, possessive, bruising. They weren't meant to comfort, only to claim. Malachai's on the other hand…
I wanted to feel them again.
The thought hit me like a punch to the gut. My fingers dug into the blanket draped over me, my breath coming out shallow. I wasn't supposed to want things. I wasn't supposed to crave anything other than survival. That was the rule.
So why did I want Malachai to look at me again?
Why did I want to hear his voice?
I squeezed my eyes shut, but all I could see was him. His sharp, striking features. The way his silver hair fell messily over his forehead. The intensity in his eyes, deep and unreadable, but not unkind. He had been close. So close. Close enough for me to see the slight tremble in his fingers before he pulled away.
Did he want to touch me?
The thought sent a shiver through me.
I had never wanted to be near someone before. I had never wanted to be anything to anyone. Lucius had made sure of that. He had taught me that love was pain, that affection was just another word for possession. He had carved that lesson into my body, into my soul, until it was all I knew.
But Malachai wasn't like Lucius.
Malachai had backed away. He had given me space. He had respected something Lucius never had…..my choice.
I turned onto my side, my fingers absentmindedly tracing over the spot on my ear where his touch had almost landed. I wanted to pretend I wasn't desperate to see him again. I wanted to pretend that my heart wasn't racing at the thought of his hands, his voice, his presence.
But deep down, I knew the truth.
I wanted more.
More than just a glance. More than just a fleeting moment. I wanted him to see me again…..to truly see me, not as Lucius's possession, not as some broken thing, but as something more.
I didn't even know what that meant.
But I wanted it anyway.